Long before I was a writer, I was an artist. When I was 15, I borrowed The Illusion of Life from the library and fell in love with animation. I always compared the following years in art school as animation camp, where I found my people. In between classes and running around the streets of Philadelphia, we crowded in dorm rooms, watched obscure cartoons from our childhood—or better, Japan!—and sketched. I have six or seven sketchbooks from this time and I love flipping through them.

It was in my second year that I snagged a coveted internship at MTV Animations, working on production for a cartoon called Spy Groove, which lasted about four episodes on air. Our job was to sit in the intern pen and come running if anyone needed anything. My tasks included walking to SOHO for a VHS tape of Spies Like Us, fetching a teeny tiny birthday cake uptown that couldn’t feed everyone, picking up audio recordings from the studio, finding Abby Terkuhle to deliver dailies, photocopying, and re-photocopying. Did I say photocopying? Also, fixing the broken photocopier. Then more photocopying.

Production picked up a ton of Disney animators on hiatus from the studio in Florida and on occasion they allowed us to sit near them and watch them draw. Some were incredibly gracious, talking through their approaches, telling us about their lives, or telling stories about former productions they’d been on— Strawberry Shortcake, My Little Pony, Lion King, The Swan Princess, Mulan. It was like being among gods of cartooning. I have a hilarious interview with some of these guys and will share them in this space.

We dug through recycling bins for old style sheets and throwaway drawings. I taped them up at my desk at home in Philadelphia. I left art school ready to jump feet first into this industry. I found myself back home in Baltimore, taking small freelance and teaching jobs. I drew until I couldn’t anymore. And that’s when I found writing. When I explained the switch to my agent, I said, “I always loved stories. I just switched mediums in which to tell them.” To me, it was no different than if I picked up watercolors after I was tired of markers.

A few years ago, I bought a new sketchbook and some soft-lead animation pencils and began doodling. I was rusty, but some of the repetitive movements started to come back to me. Just because you set a dream aside doesn’t mean it’s gone forever. I hope to share some stuff with you in this space soon.

In the meantime, enjoy some pictures and drawings from that time in my life.

In the intern pit at MTV Animations. I’m in the middle, wearing a Hammered at Hooper’s shirt from Ocean City, MD, and not showered because I was a dirty little trash rat and had to catch the bus to NYC at 5 am from Philly.

On the right is my best friend Christina, who taught this Baltimore girl the ropes of NYC.

Outside Graumans Theater during The World Animation Celebration, where we spent a week with other animation nerds and staking out the Klasky Csupo studio. At sign up, I was wearing a ringer t-shirt with Smurfette on the front and an older lady said, “oh! I remember her. I used to color her in the Ink and Paint department.” I may have fangirled so hard I passed out.

Here are a couple of my favorite characters from back in the day. Despite every attempt, you will notice that I CAN NOT draw hands and that’s why it looks like everyone is wearing oven mitts. In some, you’ll see the lengths I went to hide and get around having to draw a hand. From what I hear, this is common with artists. No one likes drawing hands and if someone says they do, they are a dirty liar.